[ this is my last sex dice thing because alex is the 6th person to send me this lmfao also I hope you dont mind me using my sniper’s name hehheheh ]
It’s in the middle of the afternoon. The sun is blazing down onto the shoulders of the men battling for some crummy piece of land. It’s not even a battle that any of them deserve to be in, but they all have their reasons to be there, so they fight with every ounce of energy in their being. The majority of the men are in the central area, but there are some other minor encounters going on the far ends of the map; a BLU Soldier was trying to destroy the RED Sentry by the capture point, a RED Demoman was attempting to get away from an Ubered BLU Heavy, and, like usual, the RED Sniper and the BLU Spy were at each other’s throats.
The scenario was the same. The Spy seemed to always enjoy backstabbing the aussie while on the job, but at this point Stephen could make out the soft, barely audible sounds of expensive shoes hitting the wood flooring. Just as the Spy was going to uncloak himself, the brunet grabbed for his kukri and abruptly swung at the Spy. There was a scuffle, both of them trying to knock away the weapons while screaming hideous swears at each other. At one point, Stephen was able to get the Spy’s knife out of the way, now pressing him to the wall with the kukri at his neck. They’ve both grown quiet, panting, out of air yet still keeping those glares on their faces. The brunet can see that the Spy is sweating under his mask, slowly running past his eye. He grits his teeth and shoves the frenchman harshly against the wall once, then begins pressing the kukri into the Spy’s neck in a painfully patient way.
At first, the Spy does not make any noise, probably out of spite. But as the kukri goes in deeper, a yell escapes the man, now squirming to get away. The Sniper refuses to let him move though, and like hell is he going to let the Spy call out for any help. He’s got the higher hand for once, and right now all he wants to see are scars. Enough scars to remind the Spy in the middle of the night that it was the Sniper that did this to him—
So, in a desperate attempt to silence the Spy without moving either of his hands, the Sniper forces his lips onto the Spy’s, his eyes squeezing shut as he does so. He doesn’t want to look at him. He refuses to make this an act of sympathy. All he feels is wrath and like hell is he going to try and suppress it.
